


Love in This Club

by DMichelleWrites



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gen, M/M, Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 04:46:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9803174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMichelleWrites/pseuds/DMichelleWrites
Summary: After Oliver loses the election for his second term as mayor, Thea decides to re-open Verdant. The launch party is laden with fun and so much alcohol. So much so after some time out on the dance floor, Oliver and Felicity decide to have a little private fun of their own. When they return, Oliver and Felicity have a lot of apologizing to do.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missmeagan666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmeagan666/gifts).



> Based on [_Love in This Club_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cB5e0zHRzHc) by Usher.

Dig's eyes encompass the rearview mirror, chastising, "Hey, you two, I better not see any funny business back there."

"Oh, Johnny." Lyla advises, tapping his wrist, "Just let them be."

Shaking his head, John figures, "Now you see what I deal with, sweetie after every patrol on Wednesday night."

John makes it seem as if Oliver and Felicity are engaging in a full-blown makeout session in the backseat of their Range Rover, but The Queens merely share a sweet languid kiss on the lips. Their fingers are intertwined together at the middle row. They lean into each other, practically breathing in the same air. The couple is smiling into this one smooch that seems to last forever. In reality, it's only until the need for oxygen becomes a necessity. Oliver and Felicity finally pull apart, though their hands remain tethered to one another. The gems from Felicity's engagement ring and wedding band positively sparkle under the buttery yellow light of the Diggles' car. Puffs of air dance across their faces. Oliver and Felicity's wry grins mirror each other before they turn their attention to Dig and Lyla at last.

"You lovebirds done?" Their friend complains with a sharp raise of his eyebrow.

Honestly, Oliver and Felicity kiss like that for two reasons. One: sometimes it's hilarious to get a rise out of Dig, especially after that hardcore OTA training session two nights ago. Two: Because they can, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with showing some affection towards one's spouse.

Felicity acknowledges, teasing playfully, "It was just a kiss, Dad."

Dig's annoyance breaks instantly due to his friend's cheerful demeanor. Felicity's black leather skirt squeaks loudly against the Diggles' tan leather car interior.

"Does anyone have to use the potty before we go?" Lyla asks, cringing slight at her own phrasing of the question, "Sorry, Mommy brain. Now that J.J.'s potty training, and Sara always has to go mid-trip."

Felicity excuses, her cheeks brightening, "That was just my outfit I swear."

"Hot as Hell." Her husband compliments, azure eyes honing in on the very spot where the leather ends and Felicity's supple skin begins - right above the knee.

"Okay. I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that." John admits, buckling his seat belt, "Remind me again why I decided to become your black driver for this shindig."

"Because we all thought it would be nice to drive together." Lyla answers for her friends, insisting, "Now let's go. Mama needs a night out."

Yes, Lyla is the head of a secret government organization, yet even that incredibly stressful job doesn't compare to raising two beautiful kids, who are only thirteen months apart.

Putting the car in drive, John double checks, "We good to go?"

"Yep." Oliver nods.

Felicity agrees, "Now let's go get mama her night out."

The Diggles and Queens venture down a road, zipping past light flows of late night traffic so quickly, streets resemble blurry piano keys. That is until they pause at a stoplight in the very worst part of Star City - The Glades. This neighborhood seems like soaked cardboard, so very fragile. Oliver looks out his window, sullen at the sight before him. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help the poverty-stricken residents of this area.

"Geez." Oliver exhales, berating himself, "It's no wonder, people didn't re-elect me. You know, sometimes I look out there on these streets, and wonder what did I really accomplish?"

"Honey, you did what you could. It's not your fault the City Treasurer felt the need for money to go to the Children's hospital instead of a charity for the Glades."

"But it still wasn't enough, Felicity."

Gripping the wheel. Dig reminds, "You have to stop beating yourself, man. You can't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Oliver, you did what you always do, you keep fighting for the little guy."

"And to be fair, you were not the sole person in City Hall, Oliver." Lyla continues, following her husband's lead, "You can't expect to completely eradicate poverty in one term, especially not in this city."

Still, Oliver's eyes linger on the litter tumbling over the sidewalk, subtle orange glows of trash can fires, and windows boarded up with wooden planks. Felicity squeezes her husband's hand, garnering his attention. Their gazes reconvene in a silent exchange. Most of the time, they don't need words to communicate. Oliver and Felicity know each other's hearts, minds, bodies, and souls. While Oliver remains a bit disappointed. He won't let that ruin Thea's big night. The grand reopening of Verdant will hopefully bring in more people. More people means more paying customers, and one of Oliver's greatest hopes is that a surge in revenue will eventually reinvigorate the Glades. After all, Thea's club is in the same neighborhood just a ways away from Papp Stadium. The couples park right by the neon Verdant sign, which is a fitting shade of green. Dig and Oliver exit the vehicle first, getting Lyla and Felicity's doors like the gentleman they are.

"Ollie, Felicity!" Thea calls out, happily rushing towards her brother and sister-in-law, "You made it."

Felicity assures, pressing a friendly kiss to her cheek, "Wouldn't miss your big night for the world, Thea."

Oliver pulls two of his favorite ladies in a group hug, which is usually surprising because he's simply not the kind of a guy. However, Thea and Felicity are only two of his exceptions to that rule. After the Queen family pulls apart, Dig gets in on the action.

Embracing the littlest Queen in his strong arms, Dig says, "Congrats, kid."

"Yeah." Lyla observes, "The place looks even better than it did before."

Guiding the group in, Thea ushers, "C'mon, let's go inside."

"You didn't ask here early to help us set up the joint, did you?" Her brother jokes.

"No, no." Thea denies, noting, "I thought you might like a tour of the place before it's packed. Daniel is a social media genius, a few tweets and the word was spread all over town."

Thea makes a Vanna White gesture, showing them the vast dance floor, a huge and sleek bar angled like an arrowhead, the red private party room, the industrial kitchen with a killer chef, and a DJ booth towards the rafters.

"So is the rest of the team coming?" Lyla inquires.

Felicity replies, checking her texts from her Q-Phone. "Yeah, Curtis and Paul are going to pick up their car from the auto shop. Dinah will be here in twenty, and Rene..."

"Oh, joy." Thea groans, lips pursing in a thin line.

Her brother interjects, "He likes you."

"Too much." His sister mutters under her breath.

"Well, if he gets out of line, you just say the word, and I'll..."

Use the whole very disapproving older brother card, which may or may not result in another to the leg. It definitely would end in that.

"I can handle myself, Ollie. I had good teachers."

"Oliver." Felicity heeds, reprimanding, "Cool it. Rene's a friend."

Shooting his wife an incredulous glare, he shrugs, "I haven't done or said anything."

"Yet, but you were thinking it." His wife completes, poking his broad chest, "I know you."

Her husband utters tenderly, cupping Felicity's face delicately as he kisses her again, "Yeah, you do."

"Mmm." A hum sneaks past her lips, which resonates in his mouth, "Love you."

"Love you more."

"And I love you guys too." Thea throws in, having to physically pull them apart, "But cut the mushy crap. Guests will be here any minute."

Her sister-in-law swears, "We're stopping. We're stopping."

"I thought the newlywed phase was supposed to end after six months." Thea mentions to Lyla, talking through the side of her mouth, "They've been married for two years."

Lyla huffs out a laugh, "I think it's cute."

"Yeah, nauseatingly so." Thea believes.

John pipes up, giving Thea a fist bump, "I'm with you on that one, sister."

"You do know we can hear you. Right?" Oliver scoffs, pointing out the obvious, "We're right here."

Crossing her arms, Thea relents, "Well, at least it's not bad as the time you were seeing the dragon lady. Seriously, Ollie? What were you thinking? She made me wanna throw up in my mouth a little."

"Yeah, can we please not bring up _my husband's_ ex-lovers in front of me? Besides that bitch isn't worth it." Felicity cringes, holding up her left hand to emphasize her ring finger, "Besides all that matters is you're mine now."

"Forever and always, Baby."

Baby? Huh? Oliver rarely calls her that. It's kind of sexy when he does though. Thea runs a tight ship, commanding that her chef, DJ, bartender, and waitstaff be ready because it's almost go-time. Not twenty minutes later, guests filter in the joint as they appear like a school of fish, including Curtis, Paul, Rene, and Dinah.

"Curtis, Paul!" Felicity yells over this newfangled and strange Electronic Dance Music that the kids are into these days, "So glad you made it."

"What?!" Curtis shouts back, cupping his ear.

With a hand splayed out over his back, Paul surmises, "Just say hello, Babe."

When the music switches to something softer, yet still danceable, Curtis finally greets, "Hey, Felicity."

"Hi." She chimes.

"Paul, Curtis." Oliver says, shaking their hands, "Good to see you both again."

"Nice see you too." Paul obliges.

Sweeping back tendrils of his wild, but cool afro, Curtis wonders, "And where's the lady of the hour? We wanted to send her our congrats before we get some cosmos from that yummy bartender."

Felicity fans herself, ogling the brunette with the gorgeous green eyes, "He is all kinds of..."

"Felicity." Her husband reminds tersely, gesturing to himself, "Still here."

"Well, I have eyes, don't I? And don't you think I failed in noticing how Eve Teschmacher caught yours."

Oliver and Felicity love each other immensely, and they would never ever do anything to jeopardize their marriage. It has taken them a while to officially make it under the chuppah. However, for God's sake, they aren't blind to other attractive human beings. A harmless look is one thing, but Oliver and Felicity are always faithful to one another. Plus, there is just something about jealous sex that drives them up them wall, or sometimes a sturdy window seat. Oliver and Felicity are grateful they have curtains.

In desperate need of a subject change, Oliver directs, "Thea's up there."

"Hello." Thea begins, grabbing the mic by the DJ booth, which causes unfortunate feedback, "It is my great honor to express how thankful..."

Dropping the formal act, she snickers, "Aw, screw it. Thanks, everybody for coming out tonight. It's awesome to see you all here. And Rob, where's Rob?"

A literal spotlight shines on her bartender Rob, and he silently waves with a nervous smile.

His boss instructs, "Save me some tequila, dude. I love it! Now let's dance our asses off, and have fun."

Oliver's emotions are both a mixture of pride and surprise. Pride because his baby sister's doing so well for herself, and surprise because she is pretty speedy in four inch heels. Thea bounds the stairs, shoes clomping without missing a single step. Rob slides one tequila shot as soon as Thea hits his station. After she throws back a shot of Patrón, her chestnut curls whip around to see, but of course Rene by her side.

"Hey, Miss Boss Lady." He attempts, using a smooth tone, "How 'bout I buy you another one of those?"

She shuts down hard, "No, thanks. You're not my type."

"Well, I am an acquired taste, mama." Rene purrs, still as persistent ever. He offers a charming toothy smile, which works to no avail.

Thea shakes her head in disbelief. Like that will ever happen. Her face crumples in disgust at the mere thought of it.

"Oh, burn." Dinah teases when Rene trudges back, feeling defeated. But he's not ready to give up just yet. There's still a chance. There always is, "Ramirez is is 0 for 4 again."

Rene growls, "Shut your yapper, Drake."

"You want go, estupido? Let's go." Dinah challenges, adopting a fighting stance.

"Hey, you guys." Their leader orders, "Break it up. My sister does not need a bar fight on her hands during Verdant's opening night."

"Yo, Robin Hood, chillax. I ain't gonna do anything."

"Why?" Dinah laughs, poking the bear, "Because you're too scared to get your ass kicked by a woman, hombrecito?"

"No. Because we're teammates."

Leaving the tough girl act behind, Dinah regrets, "Rene, I'm so..."

"Yeah, whatever, girl." Rene tells the group, "I'm gonna get some air."

All Dinah sees in the ever-changing shades of blue and green neon lights is the back of Rene's head. Her face falls in disappointment at his hurt feelings and the way she handled herself back there.

"Maybe I should go after him."

Dig continues to serve as Yoda, "Rene's a definite hothead. Just give him time to cool off, and he'll come to you."

"Okay." She grumbles, suggesting, "Hey, Felicity?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna go grab some drinks at the bar?"

"Sure. Oliver, Hon, you want anything?"

"Nope." He waves off, slinging his arm around her for a quick side-hug, "Go have fun."

Felicity does just that, linking arms with Dinah. They don't pay too much attention to Rob the bartender. Well, at least that's not what it looks like when Dinah and Felicity whisper in each other's ears. They they burst out in loud giggles. Oliver is never one to admit this aloud to anyone other than Felicity, but he really loves her laugh. It's one of his favorite things about her, and Oliver has come to understand how deliriously happy he makes Felicity. Plus, being married to Felicity, gives Oliver a real sense of peace. In contrast to her sweet laugh, Felicity's body is desire, sin, and relief all combined into one beautiful woman. He licks his pillowy lips, a sudden spurt of desire jolts his body. Even though, he knows they can't. Not now anyway. His vision darts over to John and Lyla, who are swaying in each other's arm to a much slower song, while he nurses a bottle of Bud Light. Smiling at the the pair, Dig and Lyla have officially reached the ten year mark in their relationship. He can't wait to get there with Felicity, and of course, he still expects they'd be as crazy in love as they are about each other now. His eyes scan the crowded club for Thea, yet she's nowhere to found. The beat changes to a new uptempo song by Will.I.Am, and Oliver bobs his head.

He's much more of a people watcher than a dancer, though Oliver did dance at his and Felicity's wedding. No stepped on toes, fumbles, or trips, which made his then new wife quite shocked. Oliver chomps on a potato skin loaded with cheese, bacon, and tiny rounds of green onion. One that he nearly chokes on because Curtis' dancing is laugh out loud insane. His moves are a meld of Urkel, the robot, and this odd thing, where Curtis whips his luscious raven hair back and forth - a patent move from Cisco who fares no better on the dance floor than him. Paul contains his husband, requesting the DJ opt for some Santana. A surge of Latin Rock, Jazz, and Blues fusion can be heard from a few skilled guitar chords, and "Tell me, baby girl..." Paul takes initiative by dipping his tall husband, mimicking a Rico Suave expression. and they dance with more of a flair from Paul's roots - Puerto Rican/Native American. Their moves transform into spicy, powerful, and epic.

"Hey, why you standing there staring, tough guy?" Dinah wonders, suggesting, "Go dance with your wife."

"Um... I'm not much of a dancer."

"Oliver, please for me."

His resolve crumbles as if it's a delicate souffle, "Okay."

Felicity drags her husband in the middle of the dance floor. He's right when he was about say that he isn't much of a dancer. Initially, Oliver does the cabbage patch, holding his arms out and snapping as Felicity does most of the work. She guides his hands on her body, yet his response is typical of any stiff guy.

"You're not having fun." Felicity surmises, eyes piercing his, "Are you, Hon?"

"Well..."

Cupping a side of her mouth, Felicity requests, "Hey, Kenz. How 'bout a little throwback to '09? You down for some Usher?"

Kenzie's crimson headphones nearly drop from her neck as she nods. Records scratch. It may over a decade old, but Usher is one of the modern-day kings of R&B. "Love in This Club" pulses through the overhead speakers. Oliver's mouth tilts in a boyish grin. Usher is one of the few artists he can move somewhat well to, recalling his party boy past with Tommy. However, it's even better now that he's got his sexy wife in his arms. He twirls her, matching the pace of the mid-tempo beat. Surprisingly, Felicity's in the mood for much friskier moves. Her torso begins to undulate in a body roll, her back pressing against the rock hard wall of muscle that is her husband. Oliver's hands wander, traveling over the sides of his wife's leather skirt. The zipper scratches at his roughened palm, although at the moment he could care less. His fingertips create little goosebumps at the sliver of skin exposed from her midriff white crop top. Thankfully the skirt is high-waisted. Oliver spins and dips her again, yet Felicity has much naughtier plans.

Felicity giggles in delight, flirting, "Hey, stranger."

She practically exhales that reply at her own husband. Instantly, a familiar scent hits his nose.

"Woah, my love. Did you have tequila?" He suspects, understanding, "You usually hate it."

"A few shots with Dinah." Felicity tells him, raising a few fingers for emphasis.

"Mmhm." Oliver can see that, questioning, "How drunk are you?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine."

Oliver knows his wife. She's more of a fruity cocktail kind of girl, and occasion maybe a light brewed pale ale.

His silent look reads, "Felicity," as if he's enunciating her name in that special way of his.

"Okay." She confesses, "Maybe I am a little tipsy, but not enough to wanna stop."

Thankfully, "Love in This Club" goes on over five minutes, and Felicity not only slides her body down her husband's torso, almost using him like a big, hunky stripper pole, she twerks on him. Her ample backside bounces rhythmically against the perfect spot - his clothed member. Suddenly, his dark blue jeans feel a whole lot more constricting.

Thea shudders, scooting downward as she attempts to shield her eyes in her red leather jacket, "My God. I love them, but why, dammit, why?"

Cursing the Gods above her, she hides against Dig's shoulder.

"Well, at least the press won't be here 'til next week. After all, this is only a soft opening."

His friend whines, "Like that makes everything better."

"They're really going for it." Paul says with a whistle.

Dinah admires, "Who knew Felicity could move like that?"

"I did." Lyla acknowledges.

"Go on." Curtis calls out, whooping it up, "Get your man, girl."

Thea growls, protesting, "Don't encourage 'em, glasses."

Oliver encases Felicity snugly in both arms.

His voice is dripping with need, "Felicity, Honey, not here. My sister's gonna kill us."

"Where?" She whispers, hope coloring her voice.

Remembering the restrooms are nearby, Oliver interlaces their fingertips together.

"C'mon, let's go."

Once they're out of plain sight, Felicity throws her husband up against a wall, "Good call, Honr."

Her mouth collides in his. Her breasts nearly smashed against his chest. It's all messy - tangled tongues, teeth gnashing, and smearing lipstick. Her hands roughly grip his black button up shirt while his descend down the expanse of her back. Her lips tick up in a soft smile, quite pleased with herself. Felicity goes in for another sweet smooch, but Oliver narrowly slips out from the sandwich of that wall and his wife's body. Her lips purse in question, although just as Felicity's about to ask, she's taken by surprise. It's Oliver's turn to throw her - over his shoulder- that is

"Oliv- ah!" She shrieks playfully amidst a giggle fit.

He gently pats her on the behind like they both like while he opens the door to the ladies' room, which is usually a lot cleaner than the men's. It's nothing short of a miracle that the restroom is vacant.

"Honey." Felicity breathes out, unable to cease laughing as Oliver continually smacks her ass lightly until they reach the counter. "Put me down!"

Oliver does so. Their heated gazes find one another.

An eyebrow arches, and he needs to know, "You sure you wanna do this, Felicity?"

"Nothing we haven't done before, mister." She coaxes, yanking his shirt, "Just remember to lock the door this time."

"Okay."

On that note, Oliver sprints to the maroon door, locking it firmly. If he could rip off the paper towel dispenser to barricade that goddamned door, he would. However, right now his sole focus is his wife. They engage in a passion makeout session. Her heels dig into the back pockets of his jeans. They can't get enough of each other. Much to Felicity's chagrin, Oliver lips leave hers, which is clearly evident by her telltale whimper. Yet she whimpers for an entirely different reason when his stubble rasps at the sensitive skin of her neck. He pauses to tease, nip, and suck at her pulse point. A guaranteed move that makes her moan. Although, they really have to be careful because this bathroom has great acoustics.

"Mmm... Way too many clothes." His wife insists, demanding, "Take your shirt off."

Oliver rips the fabric from his body like Superman, careful not to lose any buttons. Regardless of the unflattering florescent glow, Felicity will never tire of that sight - even when they're both old and gray. Although, only in his mid-thirties, Oliver is far from loose skin and wrinkles. His body is forged in pain and scars. However, Felicity has always seen those marks depicting pure strength and sexiness. The ripple of his washboard abs is tantalizing. With a come hither finger wag, Oliver approaches his wife dutifully.

"I think you're a little overdressed, Baby." Oliver informs, mouth lifting in a minute smirk

"Be my guest."

The sound of a zipper exposes more of her hot skin. After some teeth gritting and strong tugs, Felicity is freed from the confines of her black leather skirt. Her red thong is quick to follow. They meet his shirt on the still clean floor. Having done this before, Oliver teases her neck again, mindful not to leave any visible hickey or Thea will be even more mortified. His fingertips trace over the expanse of her torso, slipping down her shirt until he reaches her bare pelvis. Oliver doesn't touch where Felicity wants him to right away. No instead, his nails teasingly dig in at her inner thighs - not to hurt, but just to give her more of a feel. Felicity pulls his mouth towards her, meeting in another messy French kiss. Oliver shoves his palm between the marble countertop and his wife's increasingly wet sex. Felicity grinds against his hand harshly, hips moving to their volition as she loves the roughness of from his callouses right up against the most sensitive part of her body. Her walls begin to pulse emptily, and her clit swells under his touch, but she needs more.

Breaking away, Felicity pleads, "Oliver, please."

Oliver nibbles her earlobe before he slips two fingers in her wet, hot core. Felicity's hand clamps over her mouth, quelling moans that spill from her lips. Oliver's groan rumbles against her skin. God, Felicity feels absolutely amazing. Her silken core accepts his digits so easily. Felicity's wet, warm, soft, and perfect. She tries to lift her hips. Some of which she can do, although it's not quite enough. Oliver thrusts his fingers in at a maddening pace.

"Baby?" He asks, voice seething with want

He needs to feel her release just much as she needs to happen. Felicity's nearly on the precipice. Oliver can tell by the whimpers she's muffling, and the way her eyebrows knit together. He yanks a sleeve of her top down, nipping at the spot between her neck and shoulder before his fingers crook against a special spot deep inside. His thumb briefly pads against that swollen little pearl, and she breaks in that very instant.

Her hand flies to his hair.

Keening in a high-pitched tone, Felicity succumbs to pleasure, "Oh... God!"

Wetness coats his fingertips as her walls hotly pulse around them, though Oliver doesn't dare taste her per usual. His name is muffled against a harsh kiss.

Panting, Felicity curls her body around him, wrapped up lovingly in his arms. Her heartbeat drums against his chest, and her head is nestled in the crook of his neck. She's too tired to move, but Felicity certainly doesn't want to stop. Oliver can see it in her mitigated gaze. After a long moment's respite, Oliver turns Felicity onto her stomach. Her legs dangle off the counter. She knows what's coming next. Well, besides her.

"Felicity, are you okay if we..."

"This isn't our first rodeo, cowboy."

Granted, they don't utilize this position very often, but Oliver really wants to be inside of her. He drops his jeans along with his boxers, letting them pool at his feet. His fingers tease her wet sex once again, spreading the remnants of her orgasm and then some. He kisses her clothed shoulder, directly over the scar, despite not being able to see it. His pumps his cock slowly, rubbing from base to tip until he's at full attention. He groans as does she - enticed by the erotic sight of themselves in the mirror. Oliver slips his hardened length between her butt cheeks a few times.

"Honey, are you sure...?"

Raising her behind slightly, Felicity reminds, "Not the first time we've done this, and I trust you, Oliver. I do."

There was that pool and tub in Bali. With that confirmation, he pushes the tip of his member into her pert little hole. She moans languidly, white knuckling the counter, yet her eyes are fixated on that sinful mirror. He thrusts into her slowly, feeling those muscles squeeze against his member. It's is always an entirely different connection. Felicity is so much tighter like this, and Oliver revels in the pure sensation of it all. Her ass is practically flush against his pelvis. An arm bands at the nether region between her breasts and waist. He eases in at a snail's pace until they both crave more. Felicity thrusts back against him as he holds her tight to him, guiding her hips back towards him. They adopt a quick rough rhythm, ignoring the pulsing beat of music right outside that door. Oliver drives into her. A wondering hand drifts to her center. The muscles of her ass squeeze him deliciously, and he can't hold back anymore.

"Felicity." Oliver emits a mangled grunt of his wife's name, spilling into her with long, hot spurts.

Despite the lethargic muscles, Oliver gathers Felicity into his arms. They exchange a sloppy smooch before they crudely clean up with a whole lot of hand soap and cold, wet paper towels. They readjust their clothes in great haste. When they finally open the restroom, Oliver and Felicity are greeted by a mob of angry women, who desperately need to use the facilities. The couple apologizes profusely, exiting the room like it's a freaking race. They bump into Thea, who appears absolutely livid.

Felicity attempts weakly, "Sorry."

"Don't." Her sister-in-law grits.

"C'mon, Speedy. You can't be that mad."

The look on her face reads otherwise.

"Ooh, she's that mad." Felicity surmises.

Her brother promises, "We'll make it up to you. We swear."

And that they do, Oliver and Felicity are nowhere near done apologize. Oliver cooks any meal his sister wants over the next week, and Felicity purchases some gourmet Parisian chocolates. Well, the grand reopening of Verdant definitely kicked off with a bang.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and Kudos are appreciated.  
> Say hey, and please let me know what you think in the comments.  
> Tumblr: [DMichelleWrites](http://dmichellewrites.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@dmichelleca](https://twitter.com/dmichelleca)


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